I Don't Belong in Pokémon
by ShinyTogeticFTW
Summary: Deborah can't believe her eyes. She blinks a few times, but the sight remains unchanged. "No way," she whispers, "I'm actually inside the World of Pokémon!" It had been a longtime dream of hers, but she knew it could never happen – and yet... it had. Mysteriously de-aged and present at the very beginning of Ash's journey, Deborah becomes a Trainer to live life in the Pokémon anime.


I Don't Belong in Pokémon  
Episode 1: Pokémon – I Choose You!

Deborah can't believe her eyes. She blinks a few times, then presses her face into her hands, firmly rubbing her eyelids to the point where it almost hurts. When she raises her head to look again, there are vague pulsing lines across her vision – she knows this is caused by the pressure she just applied to her optic nerve – but other than that the sight remains unchanged.

"No way," she whispers in disbelief, "I'm… I'm really here… I'm actually inside the World of Pokémon!" It had been a longtime dream of hers, but she knew it could never really happen. And yet, somehow, it had.

Now that she is fully convinced of her whereabouts, she looks down to see how she herself has changed. She has slimmed somewhat all over, though she's retained the slight paunch that developed as a result of her inability to curb her chocoholism. She has also become a little shorter, and feels more youthful; she seems to have reverted to the age of 10! Not that she's complaining – she would feel awkward starting out on her Pokémon journey being in her early 20s – but after all, who wouldn't be at least a little shocked at first?

_I wonder if, since my age has been rewound, maybe the goings-on here have backtracked as well…_ she thinks, stepping out of the shade of the surrounding trees and walking along the path through Pallet Town. Before long, she comes to a house she had seen several times before, albeit never in person; the home of a certain boy named Ash Ketchum.

Nervously walking up to the door, she takes a deep breath before knocking lightly.

She hears a woman faintly call out the word, "Coming!" and Deborah's heart skips a beat when none other than Delia Ketchum opens the door and says, "Hello…"

"Hello, Mrs. Ketchum," Deborah responds, trying her hardest to keep her voice calm and level, "My name is Deborah. We've never met, but…"

"Are you a friend of Ash's? He's still asleep, but he should be getting up soon. Would you like to come inside and wait?"

"Uh… sure," Deborah mutters with a smile. _I'd better think up a story before Ash comes downstairs,_ she thinks worriedly.

"So, tell me, Deborah," Delia begins as the two of them take a seat in the living room, "have you and Ash been friends for long? I don't believe he's ever mentioned you to me."

"Well, you see… it's kind of," Deborah stalls, "complicated."

"How so?"

"Um… we've never actually… I mean we're not really friends, per se…" Deborah can feel her face getting warm, but that in itself gives her an idea. Pretending to be nervous about saying it, she whispers, "I… like him."

"Oh?"

Deborah nods, then adds, "A lot."

"Oh!" Delia's eyes light up as she gets what Deborah is insinuating. "You have a crush on him?"

Deborah looks down, feigning embarrassment, before nodding again.

"That's so sweet," Delia sighs, getting to her feet. "Are you thirsty? I have some Lemonade in the fridge."

"Yes, please," Deborah says, looking up. As soon as Delia has left the room, Deborah breathes a sigh of relief. _Phew! I'm glad she bought that!_ she says to herself, then giggles silently as she hears Delia humming to herself from the kitchen; she would recognize that tune anywhere. _That's the opening theme from the first season!_

After bringing Deborah some Lemonade, Delia proceeds to regale her with stories about Ash when he was younger. They get so wrapped up in their conversation that they don't notice how late it's getting; all of a sudden they hear a shout of, "Oh no! What time is it?!" from above them, followed by Ash stomping noisily down the stairs.

Deborah gets a brief glimpse of Ash in his green-and-yellow pajamas before she turns away. _I forgot he was still in his pajamas when he went to get his first Pokémon…_ By the time she glances up again, Ash is out the door and Delia is looking at her knowingly.

"He was supposed to go to Professor Oak's this morning, but obviously he slept in," Delia tells her. "I just hope there will still be a Starter Pokémon there for him when he arrives…"

"I'm sure there will be," Deborah says, stifling a grin at the thought. "I'm going to go after him. Thanks for the Lemonade and the stories, Mrs. Ketchum, I really appreciate it."

"Not at all, Deborah dear; it was a pleasure meeting you!" Delia replies as she shows Deborah to the door. "Goodbye now, and be safe."

"I will. Bye." Deborah waves over her shoulder before breaking into a run, hoping to catch up soon; she doesn't want to miss seeing everything firsthand.

Nearing Professor Oak's laboratory, Deborah sees a large crowd standing at the gates. As she draws closer she hears Ash say, "Gary?" incredulously.

"_Mr._ Gary to you! Show some respect!"

_There's no mistaking that arrogant voice,_ Deborah thinks as she squeezes in between the people gathered there to get a closer look.

"…I've got a Pokémon and you don't," Gary brags.

"You… got your first Pokémon?" Ash's voice sounds sad and disappointed.

_Wow… it's been a while since I saw the first episode… I had forgotten how he reacted to finding out Gary got his Pokémon before him; I thought he'd been intensely jealous,_ Deborah thinks as she watches the boys' conversation unfold.

"That's right, loser, and it's right inside this Poké Ball," Gary jeers, spinning it on the tip of his finger.

Deborah is startled when the group of cheerleaders nearby starts chanting, "Let's go, Gary, LET'S GO!"

"Thank you, fans, thank you all for this great honor!" Gary starts his monologue. "I promise you that I will become a Pokémon Master and make the Town of Pallet known all 'round the world!"

"Excuse me," Ash says to Gary, "I was just wondering if you could tell me what _kind_ of Pokémon you got."

"None of your business!" Gary says curtly. "If you'd showed up on time you would've seen that I got the best Pokémon from Professor Oak. It's good to have a grandfather in the Pokémon business, isn't it?"

"Don't be such a jerk, Gary!" Deborah shouts, surprising even herself.

"_WHAT?!_" Gary demands adamantly, scanning the crowd to see who it was who dared to insult him like that.

"You heard me," Deborah says, stepping forward.

"Grr…" Gary grits his teeth and growls, "How dare you!"

"If you want people's respect, you ought to respect other people too! As far as I can see, you haven't done anything to _earn_ the respect you claim to deserve!"

"Heh," Gary sneers, turning away and heading off with his fangirls, "I don't have to listen to you."

"I sure hope you're gonna treat that Squirtle you just got with more respect than you're showing Ash and me," Deborah calls after him, causing him to stumble.

Gary whips back around and marches toward Deborah. Pointing his finger threateningly, he jabs at her shoulder with it and says angrily, "How did _you_ know what Pokémon I got?"

Deborah smirks outwardly, but is kicking herself on the inside as she tries to come up with an excuse on the fly. "There were only three choices; maybe it was just a lucky guess?"

"Hmph!" Gary mutters, finally getting into his car. As it pulls away, the crowd disperses, leaving Ash and Deborah alone in front of Professor Oak's lab.

"So, decided to show up after all," Professor Oak says to Ash nonchalantly. Both kids jump in surprise as they didn't see him walk up behind them. Noticing Deborah, the Professor adds, "Oh? And you are…?"

"Deborah," she answers, saying the first thing that jumps into her head, "Deborah Sumac. I was wondering if I might be able to receive a Starter Pokémon today."

"I'm here for a Pokémon, too!" Ash pipes up.

"You look like you're ready for bed, not for Pokémon training," Professor Oak jokes, "I hope you don't think you're going to train in your pajamas."

"Oh, no, Professor! I got messed up this morning and I was a little late," Ash explains, "but believe me, I'm ready for a Pokémon!"

As Professor Oak leads the way inside, Ash asks him, "Professor, is it true that Gary chose Squirtle as his Starter?"

"Hm? Yes, that's right," the Professor answers, looking at him questioningly.

"Oh," Ash mumbles, "That was the one I wanted… I wish I hadn't overslept."

"Professor," Deborah asks, already knowing the answer, "how many new trainers are starting their journeys today?"

"Well, as far as I knew it was four, but that was before you asked me, Deborah," the Professor tells them.

"F-four?" Ash stammers. "B-but I thought there were only three Pokémon to choose from… Does that mean all the Pokémon are gone?"

"Well, there is still one left, but, uh–" the Professor begins.

Ash gasps excitedly. "Professor, I'll take it!"

Professor Oak sighs. "Very well." He brings out the Poké Ball with a lightning-bolt on the front, then says, "I think I should warn you, there is a problem with this last one…"

"I _have_ to have a Pokémon," Ash insists.

"Well, in that case…" The Professor lets it hang as Ash excitedly takes the Poké Ball in hand.

When it pops open and the Pokémon inside emerges in a brilliant flash of electricity, Ash cries out in astonishment.

The little Pokémon blinks twice and says, "Pikachu."

"Its name is Pikachu," Professor Oak says.

"Oh! It's so cute; it's the best of all!" Ash says, awestruck, as he reaches toward his new Pokémon and picks it up.

"You'll see…" Professor Oak says under his breath, but Ash pays him no mind.

"Oh… hi, Pikachu!" Ash addresses the Pokémon in his hands as he pulls it into a hug.

"Pika," Pikachu mutters unhappily, its cheeks beginning to spark.

Deborah, already knowing what's going to happen, has surreptitiously backed away. Upon stepping into what seems to be a library, she looks around curiously before crossing the room to peruse the shelves. Just as she is about to take down a book to read, however, she hears a small squeak behind her and freezes. Turning slowly around, Deborah scans the perimeter of the room for what could have made the sound when she hears it a second time.

"Ee-ee."

Deborah's eyes are drawn to the door opposite the one she entered through, which is ajar to reveal the Pokémon habitat outside. At that moment, a small brown Pokémon peeks its head inside and squeaks yet again. Deborah immediately recognizes the Pokémon – an Eevee – and can plainly see that it is frightened.

"It's okay," Deborah says in a hushed voice, "come here." Slowly she drops to her knees and extends her right hand, palm down, toward the Eevee.

"Ve–" the Eevee whispers, ducking its head as it comes around the corner and into the room. As the Pokémon timidly approaches her, Deborah can't help but notice that it is heartrendingly emaciated.

"Oh, you poor, sweet baby," Deborah gasps sorrowfully, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She puckers her lips and makes kissing sounds to lure the neglected Pokémon closer, relieved that it is at least being receptive to her.

Once the Eevee is close enough to Deborah's hand, it sniffs her fingers uncertainly before mewling again.

"That's right," Deborah coos, "I won't hurt you."

"Ee," it squeaks as it nudges Deborah's hand with its nose before crawling under the shelter of her palm.

Deborah then ever-so-gently scoops the Eevee up before getting to her feet, trying not spook the little Pokémon by moving too suddenly, and walks back to the room where Ash and the Professor were.

"Ah, Deborah! So that's where you went off to… Ash has already left–" Professor Oak begins; he hesitates when Eevee snuffles, only realizing then that Deborah is holding something. "Oh? What's that you've got there?"

"This poor little Eevee wandered in here, and I'd like to be given the chance to take care of it," Deborah informs him. "I believe either it got sick and couldn't take care of itself in the wild, or it was mistreated by an irresponsible trainer. Either way, I think I can give it the care and attention it needs to recover."

"Very well," Professor Oak replies, "Since there were no Starter Pokémon left here anyway, consider that Eevee to be your Starter. I will supply you with a Pokédex and Poké Balls; those are always readily available here even if the Pokémon themselves are in short supply."

"Thank you so much, Professor!" Deborah says, relieved. "I'll take good care of this little guy, I promise!" she adds, hugging the Eevee closer to her chest and rubbing her cheek against its fur.

"Now take these: your Pokédex and Poké Balls." The professor holds them out to Deborah, who transfers Eevee to the crook of her left arm so she can take the items; she puts everything into her pocket but a single Poké Ball, which she then enlarges.

"Hey there," she whispers to the little Pokémon, "I'm going to catch you in this Poké Ball, but then I'll let you come right back out again, okay?"

"Eev," its response is little more than a whisper, but it shifts its weight and reaches toward the Ball, so Deborah taps Eevee's outstretched paw with the button on the front. A flash of light later and her arms are empty, the Ball in her hand barely wiggling a moment before all is still.

"Alright, come on out now," Deborah says, holding up the Ball on an open palm, but nothing happens.

Professor Oak's brow furrows for a moment, then he turns away and mutters, "Dear, dear…"

"What's wrong? Why isn't it coming out? Is it stuck? Is this Ball defective? What's going to happen to my Eevee?" Deborah cries hysterically. "The poor thing was so sick and weak… Does it not even have the strength to come out? Did it… Oh God, please tell me it didn't d–"

"I say! Calm down, it's nothing _that_ serious!" the Professor talks over her, drowning out her last word. "Eevee is fine; it simply does not want to come out."

"That can't be… why wouldn't it want to come out?" Deborah asks nervously.

"A moment ago you said that it might have been mistreated… You may have hit the nail on the head, so to speak, and that would explain it."

"So then… it's just scared?" Deborah says, feeling a mix of relief and sorrow.

"Don't fret; I'm sure it will come around eventually, just give it time to adjust…"

"But I have to give it something to eat! You saw how thin it was! If I had known it would be afraid to come out of its Ball I would've fed it before I caught it!" Deborah sobs, panic beginning to surface once again.

Professor Oak places his hands on Deborah's shoulders and looks her in the eye, whispering placatingly, "It will be alright."

Deborah takes a few deep breaths, looking from her Eevee's Poké Ball to Professor Oak and back again. "What can I do?" she asks at last.

"Come with me." The Professor then leads her through his lab to a kitchen area, where he bustles about preparing a dish of Pokémon food.

First he takes out a handful of pellets from a canister marked with a six-pointed star, which he crumbles into smaller pieces. He then squeezes out some juice from three different berries – one brown with large tan spots; another gold with a pattern of orange stars and triangles on it; and the last yellow with patches of pink, blue, and green – before dropping them in as well and stirring it all up with a pencil-thin pestle-like utensil. Deborah watches silently, memorizing the recipe.

"That should do it," Professor Oak mutters to himself as he puts the dish on the floor and turns to Deborah. "Now, place Eevee's Poké Ball next to it."

Deborah obliges, then backs up a few steps. She flinches when she feels Oak's hand rest on her shoulder, and looks up at him.

"Let's leave it for now," he says to her, and at her hesitation he adds, "it will come out when it's ready."

Reluctantly Deborah turns her back on her Pokémon and follows the Professor. "But–"

Professor Oak forestalls her by putting a finger to his lips as they enter the hallway, turning off the light and pulling the door to so there's nothing but a tiny crack between it and the doorframe. "Just listen."

Deborah places her ear to the door, searching for the slightest sound in the silent kitchen. After a minute there comes a mechanical pop and whirr from the other side, and Deborah's hand jumps to the doorknob. Her hand is blocked, however, by Professor Oak's. Deborah turns to him and opens her mouth angrily, as though to shout, but then stops herself and glares.

In response, the Professor shakes his head and motions for her to follow him away from the door. When she doesn't move, he wraps his arm around her and pulls her with him a few feet away before whispering, "Let it eat the food first, then you can try to approach it. If you burst in now, it might just go back into its Ball and we'll have to start this whole thing over again."

Deborah sighs resignedly. "Yeah, you're right. It's just so hard for me to think that it doesn't trust me." Professor Oak opens his mouth to say something, but she preempts him. "I know, it's not me specifically, it's people in general. The thing is, I'm not like other people; there's no reason for it to fear me, but it doesn't understand. That's what's so hard for me. If it would just give me a chance it would see, but…"

Professor Oak nods along with what she's saying, and when Deborah stops talking he comments, "You're very perceptive. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you had the heart of a Pokémon yourself."

Deborah smiles and blushes, then gasps as she glances again at the door to the kitchen; it is open wider than before, and Eevee is sitting shyly in front of it and staring at the floor. "Eevee," Deborah cries quietly, dropping to her knees. "Here, Eevee, come on," she says, clapping her hands lightly.

The Eevee flinches but doesn't move more than looking up at her with watery eyes.

Deborah begins tearing up and whispers sadly, "Baby, I'm so sorry…" She lowers her face to the floor and crosses her arms in front of her to hold her head up as a tear falls onto the linoleum below. "I'm sorry that you were mistreated, and there's nothing I can do about that, but I promise you that it will never happen again. _Please_ just trust me…"

"Ee-vee…" comes a soft whisper at Deborah's ear; she looks up slowly to see that Eevee has approached and is sitting beside her, its right front paw lifted up and a soft look in its eyes.

"You're such a beautiful baby," Deborah breathes, reaching out to stroke its cheek. "Do you have a name, little one?"

"Ee?" Eevee responds, its ear twitching as it tilts its head to one side.

"I think I'll call you," Deborah says quietly, "Demi-Bell."

"Vee-ee?" it wonders out loud.

"It means 'little beauty'," Deborah explains, "and that's what you are; the little beauty, Demi-Bell."

"Vee," the Eevee sighs, then lies down. Deborah wraps her arms around its tiny form and lifts it up as she stands, realizing then that the poor thing has fallen asleep.

"Good night, Demi-Bell," Deborah whispers, placing a gentle kiss on the top of its head as she holds it close. Turning to Professor Oak she says quietly, "I'll be heading out now I suppose…"

"I'll get your Poké Ball from the kitchen for you," he whispers, lightly touching her shoulder, "and I'll pack some supplies for you so you can take care of Demi-Bell."

"Thank you," Deborah mouths, then walks over to sit down in a nearby chair while she waits. When Demi-Bell starts whimpering in its sleep – much to Deborah's dismay – she mutters, "There, there, it's okay…" but that doesn't help. Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, Deborah gets an idea.

_I hope this works,_ Deborah thinks to herself as she closes her eyes and begins singing Jigglypuff's Lullaby. "Jig-gl-y-y puff, jig-gl-y y-ypuff; jig-gl-y-y puff, ji-gl-ly… Jig-gl-y-y puff, jig-gl-y y-ypuff; jig-gl-y–" She breaks off when she sees Professor Oak standing there, a surprised look on his face, but the song seems to have done the trick and Demi-Bell is peaceful once more.

In hopes of avoiding an awkward conversation, Deborah decides to pretend nothing happened. Seeing the box in Professor Oak's hands, she asks, "Is that the stuff you put in Demi-Bell's food? Berries, right?"

"Huh? Oh! Right. Yes," he fumbles, "these are Berries; I got them from an associate of mine, Elm, he says they grow on trees in various places there, though they're not indigenous to Kanto…"

"Thank you," Deborah quietly interrupts. "Is there a spare backpack around here I can use to carry that in? As you can see, my arms are full."

Professor Oak looks, if possible, even more stunned than before, and stammers, "Wouldn't you put your Pokémon back in its Poké Ball?"

Deborah raises her eyebrow. "You saw what happened last time. I want Demi-Bell to learn that I'm not like other trainers; how will it know that if it doesn't see me?"

"Of course, of course," the Professor claims understanding, though his expression remains confused. After bustling about for a little while, he returns with an old tan backpack. After stowing the Berries inside it, he slips the straps over Deborah's shoulders and fastens them; thankfully, Demi-Bell remains undisturbed throughout.

"Bye, Professor," Deborah says with a grateful nod as she heads out.

"Good-bye," Professor Oak replies, shutting the door quietly behind her.

As Deborah starts walking along Route 1, she can see dark clouds already rolling in. _That's not good_, she thinks. _This storm that's coming now is the one that makes all the difference for Ash and Pikachu, but if I don't find shelter from the rain it could make Demi-Bell very sick…_

As soon as this thought crosses her mind, however, Demi-Bell stirs and awakes, seizing Deborah's complete and undivided attention. "Hi, Demi-Bell," she says gently, "did you sleep well?"

"Eevee…" Demi-Bell replies, yawning and stretching in her arms before looking up at her face with a shy smile.

Deborah smiles back. "I'm glad. …Say, Demi-Bell, I was wondering; do you know how to battle?" She regrets saying that the moment it comes of her mouth; upon hearing the word "battle", Demi-Bell cowers in her arms and begins trembling uncontrollably. "Okay, okay, shh…" Deborah whispers placatingly, lifting her arms to rub her face against Demi-Bell's fur in an attempt to calm it.

"Vvv-ee!" Demi-Bell growls, turning its head and proceeding to sink its teeth into the soft flesh of Deborah's right cheek.

"Ah!" Deborah gasps in pain, reflexively pulling away, and her hold on Demi-Bell slackens enough that it can wriggle out of her grasp. Dropping to the ground, Demi-Bell lands on shaky legs, stumbles for a moment, than scampers off into the brush. "No, Demi-Bell! Wait, please! I'm sorry!" Deborah cries out as she begins to pursue her Eevee.

She soon loses sight of it, however, the rapidly darkening sky not helping in the least. With no idea how to move forward from here, she drops to her knees there in the tall grass, staring sorrowfully in the direction her Pokémon had fled. She lifts her hand to her cheek, where she feels a small amount of blood seeping out of the bite mark and mingling with a fresh wave of tears.

Suddenly, Deborah catches the sound of a Pokémon's voice coming from nearby – it's indistinct, so she can't identify it, but she fears it means that her only Pokémon is in danger – so she leaps to her feet, hurrying on as a rumble of thunder sounds overhead, hoping against hope that she can find Demi-Bell before anything bad happens.

Coming to a clearing, Deborah can just make out two shapes in the distance; it appears to be a couple of Pokémon squaring off to battle. Squinting to discern their silhouettes, Deborah realizes with a jolt that her Demi-Bell has been set upon by a Sandshrew. Running forward, she shouts for them to not fight, but her words are drowned out by an earsplitting _crack_ as a bolt of lightning splits the sky in two. Responding as though it were a starter's pistol, the Sandshrew leaps toward Demi-Bell and Scratches it fiercely.

"Noooooo!" Deborah screams, rushing toward her Pokémon as the attack lands a critical hit. Demi-Bell is sent skittering across the ground, falling motionless a short distance away. Much to Deborah's horror, the Sandshrew seems intent on finishing the job; it is charging full tilt toward the unconscious Eevee, its claws raised and a vicious gleam in its eyes.

Suddenly, everything feels like it's going in slow motion: Deborah leaps forward, reaching for Demi-Bell, praying that she can reach it in time; a sudden gust of wind breezes through Demi-Bell's fur, making it sway forlornly, though the Pokémon itself does not stir; a single drop of rain strikes the earth, several more following in its descent; the Sandshrew squeals angrily, its paw rising slightly before being brought down to rake across the target's face…

As the flow of time abruptly returns to normal, Deborah faceplants hard beside Demi-Bell, one arm wrapped protectively around it. A moment later, a searing pain hits her as the Sandshrew's claws strike her undamaged cheek. She winces at the blow, but can't even manage more than a dull groan as she tries to get up; after the emotional trauma that she's already been faced with today, a little Scratch is hardly anything.

With a moderate rain now falling around them, the Sandshrew starts running for cover as Deborah begins gently parting Demi-Bell's fur, looking for the wounds she knows it must've sustained from the Sandshrew's attack. What she sees makes her recoil, falling back with a shriek.

"Sandshrew!" she screams after the retreating Pokémon. "You get your calloused little tail back here right now!" The Pokémon stops in its tracks, looking over its shoulder fearfully. "You heard me," Deborah says through gritted teeth. "Get. Back. Here."

The Sandshrew stares at her bewilderedly for a moment, but then slowly approaches with its tail tucked between its legs. It flinches as Deborah points furiously at where Demi-Bell is lying still.

"Look what you did!" she tells it angrily, pointing more firmly when it doesn't move at first. The Sandshrew timidly walks over to the Eevee, rising up on its hind legs to look closer. After a moment it shrinks away, its ears folded back, and looks up guiltily at Deborah's stern face.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she chastises.

"Shrew shrew," the Pokémon says, nodding sheepishly and staring at the ground.

Deborah's expression softens a little. "Does that mean you're sorry?"

"Sand, sandshrew," it replies, bowing meekly.

"Okay," Deborah says briskly, the Sandshrew looking up at her in wonderment, "then help me get Demi-Bell safely to the nearest Pokémon Center."

"Shrewshrew, sand sandshrew," the Pokémon chatters, waving its arms and pointing emphatically.

"It's that way? And you know how to get there?" Deborah clarifies. The Sandshrew nods once again, then begins scampering off in the direction it had gestured, stopping a few feet away and looking back over its shoulder at Deborah. "Coming!" she calls, scooping Demi-Bell carefully into her arms before falling into step right behind the Sandshrew.


End file.
